


35/3500 Fic Fest - The Hannistag Fics!

by berlynn_wohl



Series: The 35/3500 Fic Fest [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Prompt Fic, Stag Hannibal, Stag Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the spring of 2016, I reached 3500 followers on Tumblr. And if that wasn’t a big enough thrill, I’m about to turn 35. Yikes! I decided to celebrate both of these things by writing 35 fics for my loyal readers. I mined lists of Ask Box memes from sendmesomenumber.tumblr.com to use as prompts for each fic. </p><p>Fics of over 1000 words are each posted separately on AO3; all the Hannistag fics are grouped here, and everything else under 1000 words I grouped into a second collection. Check out my series “The 35/3500 Fic Fest” to read all of them!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Have you ever caught a butterfly?

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are arranged by level of slashiness/explicitness, so the further down you scroll, the dirtier they get! 
> 
> Please note that these fics are not in collaboration with flyingrotten, and are not meant to be part of the Hannistag canon. 
> 
> Extra-special thanks go to nogoulashontuesdays(.tumblr) for the French translations!

Under an ancient tree on a sun-dappled hillside, Will and Hannibal lolled in the grass, too warm and full of freshly-caught fish to do anything but laze about all afternoon. They had already decorated each other with every flower that they could reach to pluck out of the ground, and with nothing else around to amuse themselves with, had resorted to taking turns rubbing each other’s bellies with their heads on each other’s chests. They did this while they still could – a few more weeks and their new antlers would grow too large to nuzzle so close under each other’s chins.

“ _Ne bouge pas_ ,” Hannibal whispered.

Will tensed up, his eyes darting around, but he dutifully did not raise his head. “Is someone here?”

“Shh.” Hannibal lifted one languid arm over Will’s head and held it there for a time. Will could feel a hand brushing against his still-sensitive antler. After a long moment, Hannibal brought his hand to Will’s eye level. On his finger was a dazzling blue butterfly, slowly flexing its wings. “ _Il s’était posé sur toi_ ,” he said.

The butterfly was close enough that Will could see all the fine whirls and bursts of shimmering scales on its flickering wings. He watched its little mouth uncoil and try to taste his finger. “You should put it back,” Will said softly. “It was probably up there trying to drink from one of my flowers. You wouldn’t deny a butterfly a meal.”

“ _Bien sûr que non_ ,” Hannibal replied, and pressed his butterfly-laden finger against Will’s antler again, near to where he had attached a snow buttercup earlier that day.


	2. Ever peed outside?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this fic features non-sexual peeing.
> 
> ...er, *mostly* non-sexual, let's say.

A warbler’s song woke Will in the morning. He groaned and stretched, but immediately curled himself back up. It was still cold – not bitterly so anymore, as the snow disappeared from the ground little by little and the occasional daisy had begun to poke through, but cold enough to discourage Will from getting up each day.

His bladder, however, was throbbing. He had to go, and every moment he put it off was agony. And so at last, he dragged himself to his feet and outside, shuffling to the nearest of the trees that surrounded his little cave.

He leaned against the trunk of the tree and started his stream, but only let it go for a few seconds before squeezing it off and moving on to the next tree over. If he had still been part of a herd, he would have the luxury of their numbers to defend his territory, but without anyone else, he resorted to marking the trees around his cave to designate what was his, and to warn others off.

While he was on his third tree, Will looked up, and saw that other stag lurking a ways off. Hannibal, that was his name. Will had managed to puzzle that out through the gibberish he spoke. Hannibal had been very kind to him, had helped him through the winter, but that didn’t mean they had to be friends. Why would anyone want to be friends with him, anyway, when he could barely fend for himself last winter, and lacked even a herd to give him status? In particular, why would such a large, proud mountain stag want to be around a stubby-antlered misfit? Will didn’t know much about Hannibal, but he was pretty sure he was a weirdo.

Hannibal lingered at one of Will’s trees for a moment, then turned his back on Will…and began to urinate on it. On Will’s tree!

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!” Will stalked over to Hannibal, gave him a shove. “These trees are all mine, can you not tell? This is where I live. You can’t just—”

…Well, Will supposed that Hannibal, in fact _could_ just. That was what marking your territory was all about. Sometimes you got challenged. This was bad. Hannibal was so much bigger, and could easily thrash him and take his cave, if he wanted to.

But Hannibal did not seem to want to do that. Instead, he said something Will did not understand. Will looked at him and shrugged. Hannibal pointed out the trees Will had already marked that morning, then gestured in a similar fashion towards the tree they were both standing in front of.

“You want me to piss on it? But you were just pissing on it. Make up your mind.”

Hannibal rolled his eyes and sighed. He reached down to take his prick in his hand, and began to urinate on the tree trunk again. Then, with his free hand, he made the same encouraging gesture to Will again.

“You want me to piss on it too?” Will figured the only way to get a definitive answer from this incomprehensible stag would be to try it and find out, so he aimed his prick and let go with the last of what he had. Hannibal shifted, just slightly, just enough so that their streams merged right before they both hit the tree. Bewildered, Will watched this, then his eyes followed Hannibal’s stream up to his body. He had never seen such a large unsheathed cock before. He wondered if all mountain stags had such big ones. Hannibal caught him looking, and Will’s face grew hot. “Sorry,” he said, and looked back until they were both finished and empty.

Hannibal looked at what they had done, and uttered a satisfied grunt as his cock retreated into its sheath. Will’s was doing the same, but he was looking at Hannibal’s face, trying to figure things out. “Do you want this to be yours _and_ mine?” He placed his palm flat on Hannibal’s shoulder, then on his own chest. “Yours…and mine?”

Hannibal’s eyes brightened. He nodded, and put his hand on the small of Will’s back as he made a sweeping gesture to indicate all of Will’s territory. It was harder to think of this as an intrusion, considering how Hannibal had saved his life earlier that winter, bringing him food and asking nothing in return, even after Will had been so mean to him. Life would be a lot easier with Hannibal around. Will’s brow furrowed as he considered it. “But what’s in it for you?” he asked.

Hannibal spoke for quite a long time, and it sounded pleasant and sincere, but Will didn’t understand a word of it.


	3. Strangest thing you've ever found?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This fic is slightly inconsistent with flyingrotten’s established canon – specifically, Will’s awareness of man-made objects and Hannibal’s level of aversion to them – but did you know, this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction of a fanfiction? What a time to be alive. :)

The first time Will invited Hannibal to his cave, Hannibal became wary immediately upon entering.

“What’s the problem?” Will asked.

Hannibal cringed, and said, “ _Cette odeur_.” Will did not understand, so Hannibal held his nose to indicate what he meant.

“You telling me I stink?”

Hannibal stepped just far enough into the cave that he could get a look at what was inside, that might smell that way. In one corner was a box, bent and crumpled but unmistakably made by Men. Hannibal pointed at it.

“Oh, that’s my collection!” Will said. “I find things along the river, the hard river that you can’t swim in. Do you know where that is?”

Hannibal shook his head to indicate that he did not understand. Will made a gesture with his hand, to indicate something winding like a river, but made a _whoosh! whoosh!_ sound as he did so, indicating the massive beings that rushed along it on occasion.

Hannibal knew what he meant now. “ _Non_ ,” he replied with a shudder, “ _Je ne vais jamais là-bas_.”

Will picked up on the _Non_ part. “Oh, well, I don’t go all that often,” he said guiltily. “But sometimes the big creatures that go by, they leave things behind. Like how we shed our antlers? I’ve checked out what they leave, and a lot of it I don’t like, but sometimes I find things that are interesting. Here, look.”

With great reluctance, Hannibal submitted to Will’s enthusiasm, and walked with him over to the box. Will brought it closer to the light, so he could more easily show off the things he’d found. “Look at this thing, it’s so shiny! I have no idea what these are, they’re just kind of like cool rocks. Oh, here, watch, when you squeeze this thing, it makes a noise. Doesn’t that kind of sound like a duck or something? And this one I found…”

Hannibal’s curiosity got the better of him, and he peered into the box. There was one thing in there that Will hadn’t shown him yet. He reached in and took it out. It was about the length of Hannibal’s hand, and its shape was not unfamiliar, though never had Hannibal seen something that shape that was not dangling from between a stag’s legs. “What’s this?” he asked. He held it at different angles, and it sort of flopped around.

“Oh, uh…” Will became flustered. “I thought that was just kind of interesting, because, uh, does this mean that those creatures shed theirs? And if they do, how long does it take for them to grow back? And what do they do in the meantime?”

Hannibal considered this. Those were good questions. But he had a suspicion that this thing, whatever it was, did not belong to the great whooshing creatures that sped along the hard river, but had more to do with the Men who, he had seen, sometimes rode the whooshing creatures. Even the color of it was like the color of the skin of some of the Men he had encountered. Will must not have known about Men, and Hannibal didn’t want to tell him. That would be a story for another day – he was in no hurry to tell it. He dropped the thing back in the box.

“You don’t like this stuff. I get it.” Will said. “I can keep it somewhere else, if you don’t want it in our cave.”

Hannibal picked up on the last two words, and his mood brightened considerably.


	4. Can you whistle?

The sound was strange, like birdsong, but with a slow, elongated tune. Will followed the sound until he found Hannibal, sitting in a patch of flowers, picking a bouquet for Will.

Hannibal froze, looked down at the bouquet, and said dolefully, “ _C’était censé être une surprise_.”

Will didn’t understand what Hannibal had said, and while he’d been making an effort lately to try to puzzle out his words, right now he was more concerned with the noise Hannibal had been making. “How do you do that?” he asked. He pointed at Hannibal’s mouth to indicate what he meant.

Hannibal just shrugged and whistled a continuous tone. Will tried to imitate him, forming an “O” with his mouth and blowing. No sound came out. He sat down in front of Hannibal, hoping for further instruction, but Hannibal could provide none. Looking at Hannibal’s mouth from different angles, Will tried to figure out if one lip had to stick out farther than the other, and how hard you had to blow the air out. He gathered no helpful data from his examination. He tried again, but still he could do nothing but blow silent breath.

Hannibal wasn’t concerned about Will’s failure to learn the skill. He found the sight too tempting, and swooped in to plant a kiss on those tantalizingly pouty lips. Will yelped, “Hey!” but Hannibal just smiled, returning to picking flowers and whistling his tune.


	5. Things about someone that you find attractive?

Following a swim in the river, Will and Hannibal laid down in the lush grass on the riverbank, drying themselves in the sun and lazily grooming each other. Will playfully ruffled Hannibal’s shaggy hair, but then his palm drifted down to stroke one smooth cheek.

“I wish you could keep your beard through the warm months,” he said, forlorn.

Hannibal put his hand over Will’s. “Yes? _Tu aimes ma barbe?_ You like it?”

“Maybe.” Will was suddenly bashful about it.

Heaving himself atop Will, Hannibal buried his face in Will’s neck and said, “ _Tu aimes la sentir contre ta peau, hm?_ ”

Will wriggled as Hannibal grabbed and nuzzled him. “Maybe!” he squealed.

Hannibal rolled them both over, so that now Will was on top of him, straddling his hips. He seized Will’s hands and placed them on his own chest, sleek at this time of year but still broad. “It excites you, _me voir avec une telle épaisseur, fourrure de luxe?_ ”

Will laughed. “Actually,” he said, reaching down to idly pick a buttercup from the ground, “it’s mostly because, since your beard is gone by the time spring arrives, I can’t put flowers in it.” He placed the buttercup behind Hannibal’s ear; his hair was straight and smooth, and did not hold flowers very well, as Will’s did.

Next, Will searched around until he found a purple starflower. He plucked it from the stem, just behind the petals, then carefully flattened the petals in his palm. Placing it in his mouth, he got it wet with his spit. By the time Hannibal realized what he was doing, it was too late to squirm away; Will leaned on Hannibal’s shoulders and plastered the flower against Hannibal’s cheek, pressing it with his fingertips so it stuck there, a charming little adornment.

“There you go,” he said, leaning back to admire his work. “Now you’re looking very handsome indeed.”

 


	6. What's the weather like right now?

Outside the cave, the air was still; the wind whistled and howled no more, and while the sky remained gray and dim, it looked as though the snowdrifts would grow no higher for a while. It was still too cold to move, though, as far as Will was concerned; he remained curled up in a ball on the floor of the cave, just as he had been for the last several days. Even when Hannibal had presented him with a scrap of food to eat, he did not even bother to sit up, just scooped the morsel into his mouth and tried to return to sleep.

Now, Hannibal was tugging on his hand, then on his arm, trying to get him to sit up.

“I’m fine like this, leave me alone,” Will said, batting away Hannibal’s grabby hands. “I’ll get up when it’s warm enough, come on.”

“ _Je connais un endroit où il fait bon en ce moment-même_ ,” Hannibal said.

Hannibal was insistent, and at last Will decided that it would be less troublesome to get up and face whatever Hannibal wanted him to do than to be poked at while trying to remain curled up like a pill bug. Will got up on his hands and knees, at which point Hannibal began the arduous task of dragging him out of the cave. “Why are we going outside?” Will moaned, “Outside is terrible!”

“ _Nous devrions y aller tant que le temps le permet_ ,” said Hannibal.

“Yeah, great. Whatever you just said is great, I’m sure.”

They trudged for over an hour, covering far less ground than they would have if it hadn’t been covered in snow. Every time Will gave the slightest indication that he wished to stop, or turn back, Hannibal gripped his arm and hauled him further along.

Will did not recognize their surroundings, and he feared that Hannibal had gotten them lost. But just as he was ready to knock Hannibal over the head and flee back to the cave, they approached the crest of a hill, on the other side of which, Will saw a pool of clear water. And it wasn’t covered in ice! Steam rose up from the pool; it was an astonishing sight, and Will wondered if he had, in fact, fallen half-unconscious in the snow, and was now having strange visions.

He let Hannibal lead him to the water’s edge, where they leaned down and felt the temperature of the water with their hands. It did not seem so hot that they would scald if they went in, and so they sat on the rocks together and then slowly slid down into the pool.

Will’s joy and relief was immediate. The snow that had gotten packed into his hooves melted away, and the water soothed the muscles that he’d used too little the last month, and too much that morning. He groaned, “ _Hah, oh_ , I can’t believe this, why have we not been here all along? This is amazing.” Will sank down to his shoulders, then dipped yet further, so he was chin-deep in the marvelously hot water. “Where’s the nearest cave? Let’s kick out whoever lives there and move in.”

Hannibal sidled up next to him, slipping his arms around Will’s waist. “ _Te sens-tu heureux à présent, mon bien-aimé?_ ”

Will picked up the interrogative tone, but he had no idea what Hannibal was asking. “Yes,” he said, “the answer to whatever it is, is yes. I don’t care. This is great.”

With a soft, low growl, Hannibal began to nuzzle Will’s ear.

“Oh, _that’s_ what you’re asking,” Will said with a grin. He turned, so that they were pressed against each other, belly to belly.

Hannibal was holding him so tightly, and Will knew he was so strong, he thought maybe, since they were in the water and he could float a little bit, he could wrap his legs around Hannibal’s waist and have Hannibal hold him up.

Reluctantly, he brought his arms out of the warm water and into the cold air, clasped Hannibal tightly around the neck, and hoisted himself up, gripping Hannibal’s flanks with his thighs.

Hannibal gasped with surprise, but gladly bore Will’s weight, placing his hands under Will’s behind to support him. “ _Mon Will_ ,” he sighed, “ _J’aime tant quand tu m’aimes_.” Now their pricks, slick and plump, were pressed even more snugly together, and Hannibal only had to bounce Will a little bit to get them to rub against each other deliciously.

Will crushed their mouths together, knowing that Hannibal’s ardent kisses would make his cock jerk and throb even harder. Being juggled and jostled as he was, it was hard to keep their mouths in contact, but between kisses he could get out all his moans and whimpers. He was so warm, there was so much strength in his embrace, and everything was so luscious. “Yeah, harder, grab me harder,” he panted. “I’m so close. Faster.”

Hannibal ground Will against himself, huffing with the effort. Will could feel Hannibal’s hard muscles rippling as he strained to bring Will off, and the sensation, the very thought of it, was just what did. Will dug his fingers deep into Hannibal’s shoulders as his prick erupted between their bellies. The heat was overwhelming – each hard gasp brought steam into his lungs. Hannibal followed soon after, grunting as his cock pulsed hard, spilling his seed into the water.

Too weak to hold Will up, Hannibal gradually loosened his grip, and Will slid back down until he was chin deep again. The two of them bonelessly floated themselves to the water’s edge, where they could lounge against the rocks. Hannibal encircled Will with his arms, pulled at him so Will was between his legs, back to his chest.

“That was great, but now I’m hungry,” Will said, putting his hand over his growling stomach.

“Shh…” Hannibal pointed to a disturbance in the snow, fifty yards away. Will watched as an unmindful white hare bounded towards the spring. He smiled; they were not going to go hungry today.


End file.
